


Trash

by NebraskaWildfire



Series: Valparaiso [1]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebraskaWildfire/pseuds/NebraskaWildfire
Summary: How it all started.
Series: Valparaiso [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118126
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	Trash

“They’re just Irish trash.” The man watched as his neighbors finished filling in the graves.

“Shhh. They might hear you. They’re only little boys.” His wife looked over to the two boys, sitting side by side on the remnants of the porch steps. They were utterly silent, except for an occasional sniffle, as they wiped away their tears.

“Just potato eating papists, like the lot of ‘em.” He had finished rounding up the livestock that remained, but had been scattered by the attack. They were going to take it back to their farm, since there was no feed left, after the barn was burnt to the ground.

“Now, Joe, I think they were both good Protestant families. Mary O’Brien told me they didn’t attend the church over to Centerville.”

“Don’t like you associating with any of them.” He finished loading the chickens into the wagon and roughly tied it. “And now we have to take the boys. Can’t one of their own kind find a place for them?”

“You know we have the most room right now, with our boys just moved onto their own place.” Emma didn’t want to think too much on how their boys got their own farm at such a young age. Joe kept telling her, it was the border raiders who were attacking the farms here about, but it seemed that they were just burning out the Irish families.

“Well, might as well go get them, if’n we have to keep them, ‘til it’s decided what to do with ‘em.”

Emma nodded, knowing sometimes it just was best to be quiet and agreeable around Joe. It caused the least conflict that way.  
The older, dark haired boy was crying as much as the younger, but he put his arm around his cousin as Emma approached. He looked past her to where her husband was loading up the stock. He must have either heard their conversation, or was smart enough to know who he needed to watch.

“Boys, it’ll be gettin’ cold soon. Best get back to our place and get you settled for the night.”

“It alright for us to come with you?” Soulful brown eyes met hers, but then returned to look at her husband. “Mr. Bates don’t seem too happy.”

“Oh, boys, he’s just tired from rounding up the pigs.” She crouched down and smiled at them, as well as she could, continuing quietly. “Best come along before he changes his mind.”

“I don’t want to leave Mama.” The little blonde boy had the bluest eyes she ever saw, even deeper than those she remembered his mother possessed, the few times she talked to Mary Curry.

“Your ma wouldn’t want you out here in the cold by yourself.”

“Mrs. Bates is right, Jed,” the brown-haired boy encouraged his cousin, even though the tears were streaming down his face still. He looked up at Emma. “Can we go say good bye?” His eyes slid over to the graves, but then looked down. “Jed has some flowers he wanted to give them.”

“Yes,” Emma looked over towards her husband. “But be quick now. Mr. Bates is about ready to leave.”

He nodded, but reached down to pick up a bundle. “Would you watch this for me? It’s all we got.”

Emma took the gunny sack and nodded. “Go on.”

Jed picked up a bunch of wilting sunflowers and the two boys solemnly walked over to the mounded graves.

Emma walked back to the wagon, as Joe started to turn it around to ready it for the trip home.

The setting sun framed the two small figures as they laid the flowers on the freshly turned earth that now covered everyone they had ever loved, other than each other.

Joe was surprised, but the boys were actually a help around the farm. They were both small and slight, but possessed a wiry strength. There were chores they had obviously done before, and they sped through them, as young boys will, wanting something more exciting. Unfortunately for all, the Bates didn’t have anything more exciting for them, just more chores.  
Joe remembered Michael Heyes complaining about these two running off all the time, so they could go fishing, or just exploring. He looked over as Han fed the pigs and Jed the chickens. They were both still so solemn and never ventured from the farm. Han’s pa said his son would never stop talking, often to get out of a chore. They learned that the boys had snuck off from school the day the raiders came, which is why they were not home when the attack happened at sunset. Joe figured they wouldn’t go fishing for a while now.

He never really knew the boys before this. They were just two in another gaggle of Irish. You seldom saw the Currys without the Heyes family. Joe never exchanged more than a curt nod with Sean Curry. Michael Heyes, he had talked to often. He felt for the Englishman in among all those Irish, but then he would look over at Colleen Heyes’ dark eyes and know why.   
It was a darn shame he had been lost with the rest.

Emma loved having young boys around the farm again. Her own had grown into young men, who were beyond the need for hugs and cakes made just because it was a nice day.

Jed was one who needed hugs. She found her way into his good graces with food. For as small as he was, he could out eat not only his older cousin, but both Emma and Joe too. Just as with her boys, she knew this meant he would grow to be tall and strong.

It was the day that she planned to make some soda bread that she learned how many hugs the boy needed. She asked him to collect the eggs and he come back with a basketful. He had relaxed some around her. His eyes were not so dull.

“Oh, Jed, that’s wonderful.” She tousled his curls gently. “We’ll have plenty for breakfast tomorrow and still be able to make to make soda bread. She turned to get the flour and barely heard Jed reply.

“Don’t want no soda bread.”

She turned back and she saw something flicker in his eyes. “Don’t you like soda bread? I thought all the Irish … “

“I told you no!” Jed tossed the eggs against the wall and swept the bowl off the table shattering it. He started screaming. “No! No!” He looked for something else on which to take out his growing anger. He was heading towards her china hutch, when Han came running.

“Jed, Jed!” Han grabbed his cousin, but he tried to twist away. They fought for a while until Jed suddenly collapsed against Han and they fell to the floor crying.

Emma looked at the eggs on the wall, the broken crockery, and the little boys crying on the floor. She went to hug them and hoped she’d have time to clean up the mess before Joe came in from the fields.

“But Joe, why do they need to go away?” Emma was silently crying, but her husband was doing his best to ignore it. “They have been a help here on the farm, with our boys busy with their own place. They’ve been very good, done all you asked.” 

“Best if they are with their own kind,” Joe insisted. He wanted them gone before he became as fond of them as his wife was. They were both hard workers, as long as it wasn’t a good fishing day. Lord help him, but that Han could talk anyone into going fishing. He wondered where such an Irish gift of gab would lead that boy in the end. 

Jed’s blue eyes saw everything. He knew when Joe would go off to the barn for a smoke or a drink with the men who came around. Some folks suspected that they might be part of the border raiders. Joe had to get the boys off the farm before they saw something they should not.

“Do you see how pretty the fields are, with the wind rustling through them?” Sister Cecelia asked, as the wagon approached the town.

Sister Patricia didn’t see much that she hadn’t seen already during the trip there. The town, what there was of it, was surrounded by prairie grass and wheat fields. It was not much different from Valparaiso, where they had started. Perhaps there were more cornfields at home. 

It seemed like a good idea for Sister Cecelia to come along with Sister Pat on this trip because the younger sister’s gentle manner might be beneficial. The story they had been given, about the two boys they were to pick up, worried Sister Madeleva. After losing their parents in such a traumatic way, taking them away from the only home they had known, was going to require all the care they could give.

Sister Patricia loved all the children at the Valparaiso Home for Waywards, but she was a rough and tumble sort of person, who loved to teach math and play baseball with the boys. Sister Cecelia was more apt to read them a story and make them a mug of hot cocoa, wrapping a hand knit blanket around them. 

It was possible the boys would need both.

Sister Patricia had pulled the wagon up in front of the general store, when she saw them. One was as dark as the other was light. Both were very solemn, but there was a spark of something in their eyes. Sadness yet, anger maybe.

They had barely stopped when the man and woman with the boys approached Sister Patricia.

“Sisters, I’m Joe Bates and this is my wife, Emma.” He shoved the boys forward. “Here they are.”

Emma quietly moved around her husband. “This is Han.” She tousled his dark hair and he scowled. “And this is Jed.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at the sisters with his blue eyes, seeing everything.

Sister Pat climbed from the wagon and leaned down to be at eye level with the boys. She wasn’t the tallest of women, so it wasn’t difficult for her. 

“I’ve been told your name is Hannibal Joshua.” She looked him in his dark, deep eyes. He nodded, watching her. “You were named after two brave men.”

Han stood up a bit straighter.

Sister Cecelia put her hand on Jed’s shoulder. She saw him flinch a bit, so she patted it and then smiled at him with her soft smile. “And you are Jedediah Thaddeus?” He looked over to Han who nodded, so Jed smiled back, but his blue eyes remained still. “You were named after two great men too. King Solomon and the Apostle Thaddeus.” Jed looked a bit confused and his smile slipped a bit. He sidled closer to his cousin. “Would you like to hear the story of both of them?” Jed nodded slightly. “Good. We will have something to talk about on the trip home.”

Something wild started to peer out of Jed’s eyes and Han took a hold of his hand. He breathed deeply and looked down at the ground.

Sister Patricia noticed the change and knew boys. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m starving after such a long trip.” She brought up a big smile for the boys. “You wouldn’t be hungry, would you?”

“We fed them breakfast, Sister,” Joe Bates started. “And we’ll need to get going again, to make it back to the farm before sundown.”

Sister Patricia just looked at him. For all that he seemed to want to dump the boys and get back home, there were also longing glances. It would have been the best thing for the boys, to have remained here and been raised on the Bates’ farm. She still didn’t understand why they contacted the orphanage. The boys would have been free labor for several years, if nothing else. Some other reason must have prompted them to send the boys away.

“Well, Sister Cecelia and I will starve if we don’t eat before we start back to Valparaiso.” She reached out and shook Joe Bates’ hand. Then she looked at his wife, Emma, who looked like she wanted to cry. She gave her a big hug. “We will take good care of the boys.”

Emma just nodded. She then turned to the boys. Jed eagerly gave her a hug and then gave his cousin a look. Han was reluctant, but did give Emma just as tight of a hug. She released him and stood back with a hand on each of their shoulders. “Be good for the sisters.”

“We will,” Jed promised, giving Emma one of his rare but brilliant smiles. Han nodded, but watched as Joe lead his wife away.  
“You two didn’t answer me earlier,” Sister Pat said as the Bates pulled away in their wagon.

“What was that, Sister?” Han asked with bright eyes.

“Are you hungry?”

Jed smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Han rolled his eyes. “He’s always hungry, Sister.”

The beginning of the trip back to Valparaiso started off quiet. The boys sat in the back of the wagon, talking only if the sisters asked them a question. Sister Cecelia made good on her promise and started her tales of King Solomon and why he was also known as Jedediah. Eventually sleep overtook his namesake. 

Hannibal was still staring at the passing fields, trying not to look bored. 

“Sisters?”

Pat and Cecelia were surprised to hear a question.

“Yes, son?” Cecelia turned and asked.

“Would either of you have a book I could read? I ‘spect this will be a long trip.” Han’s eyes were deep and dark.

“We have a Bible.”

“Oh.” Han looked disappointed. “Is that the only book you sisters have at your school?”

“Oh, no,” Sister Patricia replied. “We have all the books any school would have. Math, science, literature, much more.”

“We just travel light, so the horses don’t strain and we don’t lose the school books.” Sister Cecelia explained. “We always bring our Bible.”

“Oh.” Han was quiet for a while.

“Does your bible have Psalms in it?” he eventually asked.

“Yes, it does, Han,” Sister Pat replied.

“Mama said the Catholic Bible was different.” He nodded at Jed. “His ma had one.”

The sisters exchanged a glance.

“But your mother had a different one?”

“It was Pa’s Bible, but Mama read the Psalms out of it, sometimes at night.” He scrunched his face. “I think it was written by King James.”

Sister Pat laughed. “I think he had some help.”

“I looked for it when we were gatherin’ up some things, but I couldn’t find it.” Han’s face started to tremble. “I think it was burnt.”

Sister Pat exchanged looks with Sister Cecelia.

“Han, hand me my bag there, please,” Sister Cecelia asked.

He wiped his eyes and did as she asked.

“Would you like me to read some of the Psalms?”

Han just nodded.

Eventually he fell asleep to the lull of Cecelia’s voice.

They made camp for the evening, by a bubbling stream. Night fell and the boys were asleep. Han had his head resting on his bundle of clothes. Jed was resting against Sister Cecelia, with her arm around him.

“Why ever would anyone give up such treasures?” Sister Cecelia asked softly.

Sister Patricia sighed quietly, looking into the campfire. “There’d been a lot of anti-Irish sentiment. I suppose they didn’t want to bring it upon themselves.”

“Then it’s up to us to keep them safe, isn’t it?” Sister Cecelia gently brushed a few curls out of Jed’s face.

“As much as we can, Cecelia. As much as we can.” 

Sister Cecelia’s breathing eventually settled into a calm rhythm as she fell asleep with the boys.

It took Sister Patricia a bit longer, as she gazed out into the dark.

“Lord, let me have faith.”


End file.
